From the Headdesk Department

Book Cover In my limited experience, with just about any child rearing or parenting book that I’ve read, I’ve come away with about one or two pieces of really useful information, and a lot of things that were interesting but didn’t necessarily fit my life, or my family, or my philosophy (which currently is, “Everything is washable, and if it’s not, it shouldn’t live here”).

Here’s a book I absolutely will not order. No fucking way. If you see the cover, run the other way. Why? Because of this excerpt regarding the “casualty of hovering mothering” – the neglect of your sex life and your husband:

If you’ve ever watched a soap opera, read a romance novel, or seen a chick flick, you most likely have unrealistic expectations about marriage and relationships. According to these sources, they’re supposed to be full of thrills, romance, wealth, and of course, lots of heart-pounding sex. But countless marriages become fractured or end in divorce because of these unrealistic expectations.

Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously, are you kidding? Not to reveal way too much about my marriage and my husband, romance novels are probably part of the reason we have a happy relationship right now – because I’m very merrily reading literature (yeah, I said literature, bitches) that focuses on relationships, overcoming obstacles, and if the writer is good, hot nookie within the CONFINES OF A COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP. Motherfucking idiots. Unrealistic expectations, my ass.

What really sends me right over the edge into high blood pressure and irate grunting (Hubby: “What’s wrong?” *reads over shoulder* “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”) is that according to these boneheads, the cornerstones to realistic modern relationships are Partnership, Communication and compromise, Trust, Respect, and Intimacy.

Gosh, not a one of those is in your nearest romance novel.

Hey. How’d this dent get in my table?

[P.S. if you’re looking for really insightful books on the first year of parenthood, our go-to gift for all our new parent friends is Armin Brott’s The New Father, which had better advice than most of my new mom books, and was written with sensitivity toward both parents. And my man Brott knows better than to write about romance novels.]

 

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